#burrow - Hello Poetry

I am the warm lips of sun, that kiss your dew drenched petals, when you in self oblivion try to embrace, I've gone faraway, playing with love struck clouds, dancing, their slips flying, I am the fire making your body burn with desire,slyly planted I am the wind, licking pollen off your stamen softly, making you want me to do that more, sowing goosebumps all over I am the movement of desire, moving through that time of the day languid in mornings,spreading fervor at noons and in darkness coils like a serpent that searches for burrow to snuggle in til dawn Flow of water am I, that carries you along easily throughout, you could ease in to me, I am the bed and the fingers caressing, in my dreams you are the sneaking fingers of my naughty lover, in you are my ablutions, my fire is quenched by your flows. I ooze,fluids of many scents sometimes a sprouting spring. I trickle with pleasure, lubricate,cross one level to the other. (C)

0

Jun 29, 2017

Jun 29, 2017 at 1:38 PM UTC

k-balachandran

I am the element in play with you

I am the warm lips of sun, that kiss your dew drenched petals, when you in self oblivion try to embrace, I've gone faraway, playing with love struck clouds, dancing, their slips flying, I am the fire making your body burn with desire,slyly planted I am the wind, licking pollen off your stamen softly, making you want me to do that more, sowing goosebumps all over I am the movement of desire, moving through that time of the day languid in mornings,spreading fervor at noons and in darkness coils like a serpent that searches for burrow to snuggle in til dawn Flow of water am I, that carries you along easily throughout, you could ease in to me, I am the bed and the fingers caressing, in my dreams you are the sneaking fingers of my naughty lover, in you are my ablutions, my fire is quenched by your flows. I ooze,fluids of many scents sometimes a sprouting spring. I trickle with pleasure, lubricate,cross one level to the other. (C)

16

_We burrow where they lie, our fallen brothers. Old sweats and fledgling crow bags, both. In death as in life, they have our back…and so we plough on into the abyss by the light of a caged phosphorus flare, hot metal spraying the midnight hour like some vengeful fay’s buckshot. A human scaffold supports us for the distance of four miles. That’s Piccadilly to Hampstead; Circus to Heath. The length of a lifetime…of hundreds of lifetimes. In the winter when the rains come and the trenches run like a quartermaster’s latrine, the soil sloughs away to reveal the ossuary within. It is then that I, in my now customary delirium, imagine that I can reach out to shake their hand again._

0

Nov 11, 2020

Nov 11, 2020 at 3:11 PM UTC

annh

They Shall Not Grow Old | 11/11

_We burrow where they lie, our fallen brothers. Old sweats and fledgling crow bags, both. In death as in life, they have our back…and so we plough on into the abyss by the light of a caged phosphorus flare, hot metal spraying the midnight hour like some vengeful fay’s buckshot. A human scaffold supports us for the distance of four miles. That’s Piccadilly to Hampstead; Circus to Heath. The length of a lifetime…of hundreds of lifetimes. In the winter when the rains come and the trenches run like a quartermaster’s latrine, the soil sloughs away to reveal the ossuary within. It is then that I, in my now customary delirium, imagine that I can reach out to shake their hand again._

2

Get used to getting hurt It's life's greatest necessity The only honest part of reality Brisk- ever fleeting, this feeling never really leaves A hole Burrow, deeper and wider, rip out the organs Make room for the marrow Mechanical bones I scream at the gears for no reason Echoing clock towers Turn it up Let it bellow into the sky Stress relief Try not to connect words Dots Default a loan A life An end

0

Apr 27, 2016

Apr 27, 2016 at 2:39 PM UTC

luna-craft

Ramble

Get used to getting hurt It's life's greatest necessity The only honest part of reality Brisk- ever fleeting, this feeling never really leaves A hole Burrow, deeper and wider, rip out the organs Make room for the marrow Mechanical bones I scream at the gears for no reason Echoing clock towers Turn it up Let it bellow into the sky Stress relief Try not to connect words Dots Default a loan A life An end

18

Alone at home busy Where is she? Duty is duty No one around me Pouring water; plants and lawn Washing floor with the pump Blossoming flowers remind me bygone They used to run and jump Yellow flowers were eaten by rabbits Two whites and one black They forgot missing two, memory habit Of the rest - brain's bank Missing one was pragnant, Oh so sad, Wish you were hidding in burrow Where you dug near the shad Not a dog bit it up to hollow Miss you the everytime I feed Green fresh water spinach leaves Only the rest three came to eat Where do you leave? Where do you leave?

0

Dec 21, 2018

Dec 21, 2018 at 9:45 AM UTC

Wai-Phyo-Win

Rabbits in Paradise

Alone at home busy Where is she? Duty is duty No one around me Pouring water; plants and lawn Washing floor with the pump Blossoming flowers remind me bygone They used to run and jump Yellow flowers were eaten by rabbits Two whites and one black They forgot missing two, memory habit Of the rest - brain's bank Missing one was pragnant, Oh so sad, Wish you were hidding in burrow Where you dug near the shad Not a dog bit it up to hollow Miss you the everytime I feed Green fresh water spinach leaves Only the rest three came to eat Where do you leave? Where do you leave?

20

my skin peels away as I itch the bumps moving around beneath it beetles burrow into my flesh and search for a home soon they will find that there is no home here

0

Jun 24, 2018

Jun 24, 2018 at 7:07 PM UTC

peacock

scarabania

my skin peels away as I itch the bumps moving around beneath it beetles burrow into my flesh and search for a home soon they will find that there is no home here

4